


Hearts On Fire

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Light BDSM, M/M, OT3, Recreational Drug Use, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:02:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "So, this is all incentive? I can get behind that." Calum kisses him again, but then lets him go. His eyes don't stop roaming Michael's body, though, making him feel regarded in the best way. Smirking, and reaching for his uniform, Calum continues, "What do we get if we win?""Yeah, Mikes," Luke says, wrapping his arms around Michael's waist from behind. "What's in it for us?""Oh, I have plans for that possibility," Michael teases, covering Luke's arms with his own.Or the OT3 college au literally everyone is probably sick of, but here's another one, anyway, because i like spoiling my friends x
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Hearts On Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fourdrunksluts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RYAN, YOU FUCKING LEGEND. getting to know you has been nothing but a pleasure, and i hope your next year is special and that this pokey fic amuses you at least a little. we know you're not a big laugher. pretend it was funny.
> 
> Title from A Love Like War by All Time Low

_You could leave. You could just leave. Tell Mali you felt sick or something came up. You can always make it up to her tomorrow. She'll understand. You know her_ , he tries to talk himself out of it. _On the other hand, you are being totally pathetic after seeing, like, one pic of her kid brother. 'Kid brother' – he's only a year younger than you! So what if he's hot? He's a total jock! You don't date jocks, remember? Not that he'd even want to date you. Like, you're totally jumping the gun on this. Honestly, you should probably just lea–_

"...going to check! I think I heard a car park outside!" someone calls from inside, freezing him to the spot. 

Then, the door flies open and in it stands the exact root of his fear: a tall, dark, gorgeous display of pure confidence and tattooed sexiness, dark curly hair just enough cuteness to keep Michael from tipping over the edge entirely. None other than Mali-Koa's brother, one Calum Hood – who is speaking to him, he suddenly realizes.

"You must be Michael?" he says, eyeing Michael up and down. "Been a while."

All Michael can manage is half a nod, but that seems to be enough for Calum to smirk, flashing him a peek of those stunningly white teeth.

" _MALI_!" he calls back into the house. " _YOUR NERD-BOYFRIEND IS HERE_!"

Michael chokes on a response, wandering into their parents' house in a daze. He's still staring at Calum's, admittedly sculpted, back when Mali, wearing a pretty yellow dress, comes to hug him.

"Seriously, Cal? Michael is a guy I game with and my _best_ friend, and if he's just a nerd, then you're just a jock. By that logic, is Luke your jock-boyfriend?" she scolds over Michael's shoulder.

Michael only just hugs her back, one-armed owing to the fact her second present is in his other hand.

"He wishes," comes Calum's response.

"No, _you_ wish." And Michael all but passes out.

Strolling in from outside is a second shirtless god, this one gently tanned and blonde as Adonis himself. Just like Calum, his shorts ride low on his narrow hips, displaying far too much skin for Michael to regard with any sanity, but in the case of this boy – who is most likely Luke – his face is half-hidden behind a pair of trendy, dark shades.

"So, this is Mali's hot gamer friend?" most-likely Luke raises his eyebrows at Calum, reaching out to shake Michael's hand. It’s then that Michael sees the black lip-ring at the corner of his mouth, and he curses his luck.

"Michael," Calum replies, slipping his hands into his pockets, giving Luke an indiscernible look. But then he looks pointedly at the floor, his voice taking on an edge. "Actually, I asked him to be friends when we were little, when he came here to hang out with Mali the first time, but he basically called me a sporto and told me to get fucked."

Michael remembers the day. And he had _not_ told Calum to get fucked. They'd been sitting in the lounge – or, well, Michael had been sitting. Calum had been bouncing a football on his knee, showing off, no doubt. Then, he'd very impolitely asked Michael what he was doing being friends with a girl, and if he'd been there to play dolls with Mali. Michael had dug through his backpack to retrieve _Assassin's Creed_ and held it out to Calum.

"So, you just sit in front of a computer all day? Sounds really boring. Come shoot some goals with us, instead? Mali doesn't even talk much when she's gaming," had been Calum's response.

"I know literally nothing about football," Michael had said, "but I _do_ know _Assassin's Creed_ , and it's only boring to people who've never tried it."

Glaring at Calum slightly now, Michael finally finds his voice. "Funny, because I seem to remember the interaction happening more along the lines of you calling me girly and your sister boring, but whatever grills your cheese, _sporto_."

Luke grasps his hand, snorting as he does and laughing at Calum over his shoulder. The latter is now sporting a bit of rouge high on his cheeks and staring far more intently at the floor.

"Luke Hemmings," Adonis himself makes introductions. "Cool to meet you, Hot Gamer Michael." 

Mali is laughing, too, but then notices the gift bag in Michael's hand and reaches for it. "Mikey, you can't keep bringing me presents! The one from this morning was too much!" 

"Oh, shut up," Michael responds, retracting his hand a little awkwardly with a last small smile at Luke. "You've wanted an extra monitor and a new camera for ages. I just got you what you needed."

She gives him a look. "Yeah? Then what's this?" 

Michael winks at her and she peeks inside. A moment later, she's screaming and throwing herself back at Michael, hugging him tightly.

"Alright. Alright!" Joy, her mother, comes to see what the fuss is about. "Enough with the screeching. What is it? What'd he get you?"

Out of the bag, she takes three tubs of hair dye, bright pink, blue and purple respectively. Letting them slip back inside, she hugs Michael one last time and covers his face in kisses. He doesn't know whether he's blushing or laughing harder.

"Mali-Koa, you are NOT dyeing your hair pink. Or blue, or purple, for that matter! You are a medical student with residency! How would that be respecta–" But Mali covers her mother's mouth with her hands.

"Dr. Fowler, my mentor herself, has green highlights in her hair, with the entire bottom shaved off. It's just hair, Mum. It grows back, yeah?" she explains reasonably.

When Joy finally looks like she's resigned herself to her daughter's wiley whims, Mali drops her hands to wrap her mother in a hug.

Michael is just happy his best friend is happy.

They spend the majority of the afternoon having a barbecue, the adults (which Michael is aware he is part of, but he means, like, _adultier_ adults) talking about what adults talk about: current affairs, politics, celebrity gossip, regular gossip and soapies. Michael and Mali keep busy discussing tactics for the _Dead By Daylight_ tournament they’re currently playing. 

Calum and Luke are playing in the pool like a couple of children. Every time Mali catches him staring at them, she raises her eyebrows at him, and he rolls his eyes at her, and then he attempts to pretend they don’t exist again — before the entire process repeats itself. Every time it does, though, Michael wars with himself a little more on whether or not he should just give in and look or go home before someone has the chance to stuff a drink into his hand.

Mali’s parents and older relatives at least have the decency to admire his decision not to drink, but he knows Mali is going to force-feed him booze tonight when they leave. He’s not abstinent by any means, he just doesn’t want the opportunity to make a fool of himself.

Finally, though, the sun is setting and Joy and David (Mali and Calum’s father) are sending people home, before they, themselves, get ready to head out. Michael thinks it’s pretty sweet they’re lending Mali the house, since she only has an apartment. He helps get the place ready as she goes upstairs to change.

He’s shelling chips into bowls when Calum comes wandering downstairs, freshly showered and damp hair threatening to curl. In his one hand, he’s clutching an honest-to-God joint, puffing like an old hand. Michael bites back the snappy remark he wants to make with regards to Calum majoring in Douchebag 101, knowing it stems only from his desire to appear unaffected by the other boy.

“You want?” Calum asks, then, holding the joint out to Michael.

“Pass,” Michael says, typing the pizza order into the app on his phone.

“What, you some kind of prude or something? Afraid Joy and David won’t fall all over themselves for you anymore?” Calum baits him.

“They don’t—” he starts, but Calum rolls his eyes and cuts him off.

“ _Michael is Mali’s best friend! Such a good boy! He might be studying computers, but he’s not a big partier at all. The next Bill Gates, Sarah, I’m telling you! Why don’t you just marry our daughter, Michael? We know you suck dick, but we’ll organize that for you, too. Here are the keys to the Mercedes. Can we also wipe your ass for you?_ ” he mocks, badly imitating his mother’s voice.

Michael blushes so badly, he feels the roots of his hair burn, which is hilarious, since it’s dyed bright red. 

“Yeah, well, I guess she needs _someone_ to be proud of, _sporto_ ,” he sneers back, glaring Calum down.

“She needs to get a grip, is what she needs,” Calum dismisses Michael’s utter humiliation, like he has no idea the effect his words have on Michael. “Now, do you wanna unwind, or are you going to sit in a corner all night, playing _Subway Surfer_ on your phone?”

He holds the joint out again. Feeling about ready to leave and ditch the party altogether, Michael snatches the weed out of Calum’s hand and puts it between his lips. Calum strikes his lighter and brings it up to Michael’s mouth, smirking at him, his bright brown eyes sparkling mischievously into Michael’s green.

“Starting the party without me?” Luke appears at Calum’s shoulder.

Unlike Calum, who is decked out gorgeously in all-black (not to mention a t-shirt that hugs his torso so beautifully, it makes Michael want to lick his abs), Luke is wearing a light blue singlet that makes his eyes — which Michael can see now are an almost iridescent blue — pop something neon electric. His hair, previous flattened by a snapback and then pool water, is now styled up in an artful disarray and looking blonder than ever, picking out every beautiful plane and angle of his face. It even makes the lip-ring stand out in starker tantalizing sexiness.

Michael is _not_ staring.

“See something you like, Mikes?” Luke teases, smirking at him.

“Your drink,” Michael returns, relieving him of his beer and draining half the can.

And that pretty much sets the tone for the entire evening.

Mali’s med school buddies show up and make it pretty clear pretty fast that they have nothing to say to either Michael or the boys. They’re such full of shit snobs, Michael has no fucking clue what Mali sees in them. What does she even have in common with them? They all act like learning to save lives is some kind of status symbol, and not a vocation, dismissing Michael’s career choice as something not even worthy of mention. Some girl even had something nasty to say about Luke studying Actuarial Sciences, like she didn’t also need math to get to where she is. Calum had shut her up by saying without people like him (he’s apparently a Law major), people like her wouldn’t even be able to practice. She'd pouted like a child at that. 

One asshole in particular is getting on his last nerve. He keeps glancing over at Michael and smirking like seeing him stand awkwardly off to the side is just fucking tickling him pink. Michael might be a nerd and not prone to great displays of physicality, but if that motherfucking slimeball lays so much as one more hand on Mali, Michael’s testing the fuck’s knowledge of the human skeleton by seeing how many of his bones he can break in ten minutes.

This is why Michael hates going to parties — hates socializing as a rule. There’s never anything for him to do or anyone for him to hang with. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much, if I were you,” comes a, reluctantly, welcome voice.

“Yeah, but kicking his ass would be something to do. And they’re all doctors, right? They can just patch him back up,” Michael reasons, taking Luke’s beer from him again, in a plastic cup this time.

“Actually, you know what? You’re right. I’ll get Cal. For people like that asshole, bullying should come back into fashion,” Luke responds, taking his cup back from Michael and taking a swig himself.

“Sad, uptight fucker,” Michael mutters, staring Dr. Douchebag down and wishing he had more of Calum’s weed.

“Probably never been railed a day in his life,” Luke muses along.

“Honestly, making him suck dick would be a public service,” Michael remarks, reaching for Luke’s beer again. He finds the other boy smirking at him in that wry way again and it makes his toes curl in his sneakers. He can’t even pretend he doesn’t want to take that lip-ring between his teeth or feel it against his mouth and tongue. Taking the cup back from Luke and taking a sip, Michael figures he could be awkward all night — or he could just let go and get drunk. Mali’s got him — in fact, she’ll probably encourage this. “See something you like, Hemmings?”

“My drink,” Luke smiles, takes the cup from him and drains it, tossing it aside.

“Yeah, alright,” Michael nods. “Very funny, fuckboy.”

“You think I’m a fuckboy?” Luke replies, clutching at his chest melodramatically.

“Isn’t that what this whole look of yours is?” Michael fires back, gesticulating, just as someone pushes the volume of the music up all the way.

Raising a hand to indicate he hadn’t heard, Luke raises his eyebrows questioningly. Michael leans in, carefully, and tries again. Definitely catching it this time, Luke lets Michael see him smile before pinning him with a mildly cocky look.

But then he leans in, practically caging Michael in with his body as he presses his lips to Michael’s ear.

“Bit judgy, Hot Gamer Michael,” Luke murmurs, making Michael’s knees give out one by one, “but I’ll let it slide — if you come dance with me?”

“Luke, you greedy bitch,” Calum appears suddenly between the two of them, yelling at Luke to be heard over the music. He hands them each a fresh drink, both their cups in one hand, while his own is in the other.

“I figured you were busy with Mali’s professor,” Luke fires back, nodding at a stunning blonde lady that looks far too old to be there, in the most scandalous dress Michael’s ever seen.

“I’m not nearly ready for what she’s looking for,” Calum shakes his head, eyes wide.

Michael, still in the mood to either get drunk or leave, downs his beer and tosses the cup aside. He leans into the two of them. “I thought we were going dancing?”

The two boys look at each other for a moment, some unspoken understanding passing between them. Then, they throw their own drinks back and each grab one of Michael’s hands.

Life is a movie, sometimes. Right then is one of those times. Right as they head out there, a new song starts and Michael drops himself into it, throwing his body from side to side, arms in the air. The motion, coupled with the alcohol in his system, makes it so that all he’s aware of is the pounding bass beat and his movements to it, clinging to the rhythm for dear life as he goes as hard as he can. 

He soon discovers there’s a bit of organized chaos accompanying the song, synchronized movement of some kind, and he falls into it. For a good bit, he finds himself dancing with a smiling Calum. That is, until the dance speeds up and he feels like he can’t keep up anymore. Calum tries to show him, tripping over Michael’s feet and laughing harder, but Michael’s just about ready to step out. Then, Calum swaps with Luke, who comes out from behind Michael. Hands on Michael’s hips, Calum puts his mouth to Michael’s ear.

“You got this, baby. Just relax, yeah? We got you.”

Tired of fighting himself all day, Michael decides to give in. Mali’s here. She’ll look out for him if things get too hectic. 

Luke shows him as the song loops again, more and more people gathering to dance along. Calum, his hands all over Michael, is molding him like putty. His touch is more intoxicating than any alcohol, setting Michael’s veins on fire and turning his bones to mush. When the song finally changes, he has no intention of moving out from between Luke and Calum. Especially not when Luke looks at him like that, like he’s begging Michael for something. He pulls the gorgeous boy closer, letting all three their bodies slot together.

The music switches up to something more intense, a little heavier, the beat making the entire yard shake, but Michael has never felt more stable. Calum has his hands on Michael’s hips and Luke has his arms wrapped around Michael’s neck, and there’s no space between them. All their moves are now in time, like some cosmic force is moving them along. Distantly, Michael wonders if that’s the booze talking. He finds himself not caring very much, one way or the other. All he knows for sure is that these two perfect bodies feel incredible against his. The only thing that would make it better is if there weren’t so many layers between them. Honestly, Michael is pretty proud of himself just for still being upright.

As though reading his mind, Calum brings his head down to Michael’s shoulder, his lips ghosting along the skin there. The music swallows up Michael’s gasp, but Luke definitely catches the look on his face, eyes flitting down to where Michael is chewing at his bottom lip to keep from popping a fucking boner right there on the dance floor, in front of everyone. It becomes pretty clear that that might be exactly what the boys are after, though, when Luke mimics Calum on the other side of Michael’s throat. His legs threaten to give out under him completely at the feeling of the cool metal of Luke’s lip-ring against his skin, making him grip like hell to what’s in front of him, which just so happens to be Luke.

It’s when Luke goes the tiniest bit slack against Michael that Calum halts his ministrations on Michael’s neck for just a minute. Only in his periphery does he see Calum making eye contact with Luke over his shoulder, and then Luke’s stopping, too, but only so Calum can kiss him messily, their mouths basically crashing together. Neither of them let go of Michael, though. In fact, Calum’s one hand moves to slip under Michael’s shirt and grip at the skin of his hip, kneading it slightly, leaving Michael totally at their mercy. He knows that if they let him go now, he’s going to collapse under his own weight.

They break apart, immediately refocusing their attention on Michael. Calum’s other hand follows the first under Michael’s clothes, while Luke’s fingers go to knot themselves in Michael’s hair.

“Didn’t think we forgot about you, did you, gorgeous?” Luke says against his mouth, but doesn’t kiss him. Instead, he grips Michael’s bottom lip between his teeth to roll it into his mouth. He sucks on it, just as Calum’s teeth nip at Michael’s collarbone. All the while, the two of them grind mercilessly on him, and he has no hope of pertaining any kind of control. If they don’t cut him a break soon, he’s going to come in his jeans, right there between the two of them.

Finally, a slower song comes on. One thing that can be said about the two boys is that they’re not a pair of 'hit it and quit it' assholes. Calum fixes Michael’s shirt, while Luke makes sure he can walk okay. They get him across the yard, around the pool, to sit on a sunchair on the raised terrace behind the drinks table. Somehow, though, Calum collapses into it first and Michael ends up in his lap. A distant alarm bell sounds in his head over the compromising position, but Calum only has an arm behind his back and one draped lazily over his legs.

“Lukey, you grabbing drinks?” Calum asks the only one of them still standing.

How Luke is vertical is one of the universe’s biggest mysteries to Michael, but he nods. Before he leaves, he leans into Michael’s space just a little, giving him a sweet smile. “Cal’s got you, yeah? Be right back, pretty thing.”

“Lukey,” Michael mimics Calum’s nickname, grabbing for Luke’s hand. He turns back with an even bigger smile. “Some water, please?”

“You hot, baby?” Calum murmurs behind him and Michael has to resist the urge to go boneless against him, but it’s a near thing.

He manages a nod, though, which makes Luke nod back at him, leaving a kiss to the back of Michael’s hand before he heads off to get their drinks.

“So, still think you’re better than me?” Calum asks him once they’re alone.

Michael feels bad at that. Calum honestly hadn’t appeared fazed at the time, which had led Michael to believe he hadn’t cared. But now he’s done nothing but show Michael a good time — even now, as his fingers draw light patterns down Michael’s back, through his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he manages, turning slightly more to face Calum. “I was a dick to you. You’ve been so…"

“Good to you?” Calum offers, leaning in to press a kiss to Michael’s shoulder. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “It’s alright, gorgeous, you can say it. I’ve been trying my best to be.”

“You don’t think I’m some loser nerd, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer?” Michael teases, eyes flitting for a moment to where Calum is wetting his lips.

Actually, it looks like Calum wants to say something, but he’s either doubting himself or wondering how best to say it. Michael frowns the tiniest bit, but Calum reaches up to smooth a thumb over the crease between his eyebrows.

“No way. Not a loser. Definitely the hottest nerd I know,” he answers finally.

“Okay, guys. I brought us options.” Luke reappears so suddenly, Michael jumps a little. Luke makes an apologetic little expression at him. “Sorry, baby.”

If not for the fact that everything is already entirely overwhelming in the best possible way, Michael may develop a kink for all their pet names in specific, but mostly for how not one of them seems disingenuous. Maybe he’s just drunk.

“Jesus, Luke, did you raid a liquor store?” Calum asks, taking in the actual tray of stuff Luke had brought back.

“You can shut up or I can make you drink all this yourself, fucker,” he responds, eyeing Calum threateningly. Maybe it’s a little hot.

Okay, it’s extremely hot.

“So, what exactly is all this?” Michael asks.

“Happy you asked, Mikey. I figured we could stick to beer, which guarantees a buzz, but doesn’t get you drunk nearly fast enough. Or we could do shots. I brought us each two. But if cooling down for the night is your vibe right now, I brought like three cups of ice water. It’s all up to you, though. Calum has decided to test the liver-regeneration theory, so his alcoholic ass will literally drink himself into organ failure,” Luke finishes with another look to Calum.

The latter is presently wrapped around Michael, chin resting on his shoulder. At Luke’s comment, Calum sticks his tongue out, making Michael smirk slightly.

“I think…” Michael pretends to consider, “that we should do shots…and beer.”

“Thatta boy!” Calum claps him on the shoulder.

They all end up sharing a cup of ice water first, just to cool down slightly, and then they hit back the six shots in record time, chasing them with a cup of beer each. The next stop is the dance floor.

They end up dancing for what feels like ten songs, but Michael doesn’t regret a single second. This time he’s ready for them, giving as good as he’s getting — or trying to, at least. The booze fucks with his coordination in a big way. He does, however, get Calum and Luke’s shirts off, trailing kisses wherever he can reach. Luke becomes practically pliant in his hands, where Calum only gets more solid and unyielding. Michael can’t decide which is hotter. Somehow, though, they all keep avoiding the one place Michael so badly wants to be kissed. It’s like they’re purposely denying him what he wants. If this is some delayed gratification thing, he’s not about it.

He doesn’t really have much time to be upset about it, though. Booze and weed have a way of not making you care very much. Which is why he doesn’t even argue when Calum suggests they go for a swim just before Michael has to leave. He just strips along with them until he’s standing there in nothing but his underwear. They’re all about to jump in when Mali’s dickhead friend comes prancing past them, turning his nose up at their antics. Michael meets the other two’s eyes and they all appear to reach the same understanding. Running forward as one, they tackle Dr. Douchebag right into the pool with them. Naturally, he’s pissed as hell, screaming about his clothes and his phone the entire time, but none of them can find it in themselves to do anything but laugh.

They’re still laughing when they get out, wrapping themselves in warm towels brought out by Mali. She also tells Michael she’d ordered him his Uber. He kisses her cheek and thanks her, but she says she’s just happy he had fun. It’s a special kind of gratifying when she tells the pompous dick refusing to give her his clothes to throw in the dryer to shut up.

High and dry outside, and waiting for his Uber, Michael leans against Luke.

“So, what do you play, anyway?” he asks Michael, suddenly. “Like, are you and Mali doing the DBD tournament?”

Michael pulls back to stare at him. “You know _Dead By Daylight_?”

Luke frowns. “I only play the best Quentin you’ve ever fucking seen.”

Michael’s jaw drops. “What else do you play?”

“That’s a big question. A little bit of everything. I like horror games? Preferably, story or quest based. Okay, have you played _Outlast_? Or _Uncharted_?” Luke asks, pulling Michael against him again. He won’t lie. He swoons a little.

“I’m a massive chicken,” Michael admits. “Horror freaks me the fuck out. I could never.”

“You and Calum have that in common. Fucker only plays Mario Kart and FIFA.” Luke casts a glance at Calum, who is leaning against the lamppost, dragging on a cigarette.

“Nothing wrong with Mario Kart or FIFA,” Michael says.

“Thank you,” Calum says, winking at him (swoon). “See, Luke. You can be a gamer without being a total asshole. It _is_ possible.”

“Don’t pretend me being a bitch isn’t what you jack off to every night,” Luke throws back.

Michael snorts. “Honestly, Calum, yeah. Don’t lie to yourself.”

“Oh, right. My bad. I forgot how utterly bratty you are when you’re all but crying, begging me to just give it to you.” Calum raises one eyebrow at Luke, smoke trailing out his nose.

A car pulls up to the curb.

“Well, as scintillating as this conversation was no doubt shaping up to be, this is my ride,” Michael says, heading for the passenger side door.

“And so you thought, that’s it? We’re just gonna let your stoned ass go, no ceremony. I’m offended,” Luke says, actually sounding it.

“Well, you can’t hold me hostage. Mali is…stern,” Michael knows that isn’t at all what he’d meant to say, but he genuinely is very high. He needs to sleep this off.

“I’m telling her you said that,” Calum says, amused, coming to stand in front of Michael. Then, he pushes in and kisses Michael, a little uncoordinated, but his lips move against Michael’s hypnotically, hot and soft. He doesn’t have a hope in hell of responding before it’s over. Calum doesn’t look like he minds, though, only looking satisfied that it happened.

Michael is still gathering his thoughts when Luke kisses him, too, his less intense and more tantalizing, like he’s trying to coax more out of Michael. Deciding he’s allowed at least a little self-indulgence here, Michael gives in and gets Luke’s lip-ring between his teeth to tug on it a little. A sigh escapes the other boy, causing him to lean in a little more desperately, but Michael pulls away.

“‘Night, guys,” Michael says, before ducking into the car.

“Sweet dreams, babe,” Calum throws back, making Michael smile despite himself.

“Sleep sweet, Mikey,” Luke says, giving him the prettiest smile.

Michael reckons only, like, 5% of his current daze is because of the weed.

  
  
  
  


The next morning is a big no from Michael. Out of ten, he'd probably rate it a solid one – and that's being generous.

The pounding in his head is what wakes him up. The bile in his throat is what spurs him into action. The smell of him is what sends him through the shower. Finally, he puts his clothes and bedding through the wash and decides to go nurse his hangover in his study.

One thing he can commend drunk-Michael for is always remembering to put his phone in the charger. It's there now, next to his computer. As he goes to pick it up to check the time, it vibrates with a text. It's Mali, saying she's on Twitch if he wants to come hang. Slipping his headphones on, he logs on to find her just sitting there, working hair dye through her hair, wearing his ancient _World of Warcraft_ hoodie that he's never bothered to reclaim from her and no headphones, which is like the gamer version of being on speaker.

At the sight of him, she cracks up laughing. She laughs so much and so loudly that he has a right mind to log back off and go sleep on his couch. Why must she be so obnoxious when he's clearly in pain.

"I'm sorry," she manages, finally. "Mikey, I'm sorry. It's just…"

"Yeah, yeah. I look like shit. I know. Feel worse, thanks for asking." He drops his face into his hands, wondering how dickish he'd look in a pair of shades right about now.

"If it makes you feel any better, your boyfriends look worse," she offers.

"My boyf– _Oh, God,_ " he groans.

Calum and Luke. He'd absolutely thrown himself at them last night, letting them feed him booze and weed like some helpless virgin. They must think he's the most pathetic, easy piece of ass they've ever seen. Just thinking back to how he'd slathered himself all over them on the dance floor… He's never leaving his house ever again.

"I'm hiding under my bed forever," he announces to Mali.

By now, she's worked dye through three thick strands of hair, all three colors represented. Meaning, she's free to give him her 'older sister' look – the one that basically says he's being dramatic and that things aren't nearly that bad. Easy for her to say, or… convey… through non-verbal means… Point being, she hadn't thrown herself at a pair of hot fuckboys last night. Like one isn't enough? What the hell had possessed him? He's never done something like that in his entire life.

"Look, okay, can you cut the crap? I completely humiliated myself last night! I am never showing my face at your parents' place again. _God…_ " There is no amount of groaning in the world that can make this better.

"And if I tell you they both had the time of their lives last night? And that Luke asked me for your number?" Mali smirks at him, bringing up sweater-pawed hands to rest her chin on.

"I'd say you're full of shit," Michael shuts her down, not believing her for a second.

"Why would I lie???" she counters, laughing.

"Because, secretly, you love seeing me in pain," he hits back, listlessly, dropping his head onto the table.

"More my thing, that," comes the smug voice of Calum as he strolls into view of the camera, "but only if you're up for it, babe."

Is he completely and utterly spineless for swooning? He doesn't know whether he's cringing at himself or blushing harder. As it is, Calum's voice is all scratchy from sleep, his curls wild as hell. He's also only in a pair of underwear, which is just further proof of his self-professed sadistic nature.

"Cute ears," he comments, gesturing at Michael's cat-ear headphones.

He blushes, tongue a lead-weight in his mouth.

"Oh, Calum, go be a nightmare someplace else! Can't you see you're tormenting him?" Mali chases her brother out of the room.

"I just came to ask if I can borrow your car to go buy food? Cereal is not going to cure this hangover," Calum asks, running a hand through his hair.

Michael's eyes track the way his bicep flexes with the motion, suddenly thrown back into flashes of last night, when those arms had been around him, moving him this way and that, touching and gripping him _just_ so.

"Bring me back pizza. And waffles," Mali nods, breaking through Michael's daydream.

"Can I bring back Michael? What do you say, gorgeous? Wanna come continue the party here?" Calum looks dead into the camera to tease him, punctuating his point by licking at the corner of his mouth.

 _Fuck_ , that mouth…

Did they kiss the previous night? That's gotta be a dream, right? No way this hunk of human flawlessness kissed him. This is probably some whacked out, weed-induced hallucination. He needs to get his shit together.

"Fuck off, Calum," Mali shoves him towards the door. "And if you don't get me pizza or waffles, don't even bother coming back."

"Yes, Ma'am," he says, laughing. "Cheers, beautiful!"

"Reckon that last one was for you," Mali says, an amused look almost identical to that of her brother on her face.

"I'm setting myself on fire."

His phone vibrates with a sudden text. Checking it in case it's his parents, he frowns at the unknown number. Going to read it, all it has to say is "no ur not".

"What the–"

Mali frowns at him. He goes to show her the text by pointing his phone screen at his webcam, but then another text comes through, and another and another.

"its luke btw" 

"dont set urself on fire"

"we like u too much"

Rolling his eyes, Michael takes a screenshot and sends the whole thing through to Mali.

"I told you!" she yells at the screen. "You're such a loser. They like you! Why are you being a teenage girl about this?"

" _A teena–_ Fuck off, Hood. Okay, I am a regular amount of apprehensive. Have you _seen_ them? I am a pokey crack in the wall with hair, and they're both cover models for _Sports Illustrated_!" Michael forgets himself for a second.

His phone vibrates again, making his heart leap up into his throat, but he still goes to check it at the speed of light.

"high praise," comes the first text, but the typing bubble is already there again.

"but ur selling urself short. ur tattoos? that eyebrow piercing? ur hot af"

"can u stop?" Michael texts back, blushing so hard his vision blurs and his hands shake.

"sure," Luke texts back. Then, a second later, "1 condition tho" 

"which is" Michael returns.

"come out with us again 2nite? mali said she wants to go dancing. come with" 

Michael groans out loud.

"What is he saying?" Mali demands.

"He's saying," Luke calls out, bursting through the door into her study, "that Michael needs to come out dancing with us tonight. Make him go, Mali. You're his best friend."

"Excuse me?" Michael finally loses it. "Do I get absolutely no say in the matter? I still feel like death from last night!" 

"Only sure fire way to avoid a hangover is to keep drinking," Luke rationalizes. Michael notices how he at least has the decency to wear pajama bottoms.

"He's got a point, Mikes," Mali agrees.

"You know what the best part of being a model is, Luke?" Michael glares him down. "You don't have to talk. Why don't you go on and give that a try?"

"Is that why you're usually so quiet, then?" Luke fires back.

"OH MY GOD!" Mali reaches back to pound fists with him.

"I feel…" Michael starts, second guessing whether or not he should finish that statement.

"Flirted with?" Luke offers. "Because that is absolutely what I was going for. Did I do alright?"

He directs the last question to Mali, who makes an impressed face and nods a few times.

"Sweet," Luke responds. "Anyway, see you tonight, Mikey. Can't wait!"

And with that, he leaves the room.

The door is barely shut or Mali is leaning into her computer screen to whisper conspiratorially. "I'm FaceTiming you in a few hours to help you pick out an outfit. You better pick up."

"Don't bully me. I just need food first–" Which is when the doorbell decides to cut him off, which is mostly weird because he doesn't have a doorbell.

"You have a doorbell?" Mali asks him.

"No. Be right back." 

He pads over to the front door, reaching it right as the mysterious doorbell sounds again. Opening the door with the deadbolt still on, he chuckles incredulously at the picture.

"You're an idiot," he assesses, squinting out at Calum, who has a pizza box in one hand and his phone on a doorbell app in the other.

"Now, is that any way to speak to the guy who just drove all the way across town to bring you a hangover cure?" Calum returns, raising his eyebrows up over his shades. The white of his singlet turns him into a bronze god, but Michael is most enchanted by the hair still curling up where it's sticking out under his maroon snapback.

"Sorry, but how do you know where I live, anyway?" Michael asks, stepping back to let him in.

Only when he reaches down for it does Michael notice the plastic bag at his feet. It gives him mild pause, suddenly extremely curious about this 'hangover cure'.

"Mali's GPS," is all Calum says, before letting himself in.

He sets up in the kitchen, putting the pizza down and digging through the plastic bag. Out of it, he takes two boxes of pills, a bottle of Powerade and a big tub of fruit yogurt.

"Painkillers and anti-nausea meds," he says, pointing at the boxes of pills. "Then, yogurt, Powerade and pizza. Don't over-eat or you'll get sick again. Sleep again, maybe, for an hour or two. Then, you should be golden for tonight."

"I'm still not convinced I'm going," Michael counters, arms crossed in front of his chest as he stares up at Calum, head tilted.

Calum smirks, nodding a few times and licking at those damn lips of his again. He comes to stand in front of Michael, running his hands down Michael's hoodie-clad arms to twine their fingers together.

"You want me to beg? That it?" Calum asks.

"Might be nice," Michael mutters, looking down at their locked hands.

"Have it your way, then."

He tugs Michael into him a little, letting go of one of his hands to use his now free one to press at the small of Michael's back, bringing them flush together. No chance even to come to grips with this new development, Michael can't do anything but sigh, free hand at Calum's hip, when Calum leans in and trails scorching hot kisses up his jaw. He comes to stop at Michael's ear, breath the tiniest bit labored.

"Please, baby?" Calum breathes, biting down on his earlobe a little. "Didn't you have fun last night? We did. Safe to say Lukey and I are crazy about you. Say you'll come out with us again?"

Michael is nodding before he even has full and entire sense of himself.

"Pretty boy," Calum murmurs. "Absolutely beautiful. Can't wait to have my hands all over you again tonight."

A small whine leaves him, and suddenly he doesn't care how desperate and pathetic he must look. He just wants Calum to keep touching him – harder, though, rougher – to unmake him. He wants Calum to kiss him until he can't breathe. He has him here now. Michael just wants him to stay.

"Look, I have to go get Lu and Mal their food, too. I'll see you later. Seven good?" Calum disentangles himself to ask.

"And you can't stay, like, half an hour longer?" Michael whines, reaching up to loop his arms around Calum's neck.

"I wish, but Luke'll kill me. Can't really blame him, though. He has always been a slut for attention," Calum smiles, wrapping his arms around Michael's waist.

"You two are going to kill _me_ , I swear to God," Michael says, pulling him in for a hug.

Calum hugs him back, burying his face in Michael's neck. They stand there for a bit, Michael trying hard to keep from asking all the stupid questions in his head. He knows the three of them have to talk at some point, before Luke and Calum go back to uni, but somehow trying to sort this out feels as final as them leaving.

So, he says nothing. Just waves Calum out the door, trying his hardest not to think of tonight as some kind of last hurrah.

  
  
  
  


“No, _you’re_ stupid, because I told you I was wearing white, but you were too deep in your pizza-stupor to hear me.”

“What’s a stupor?”

“Jesus fuck, Lucas. It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Calum shakes his head.

But Luke is _preening_. “You think I’m pretty?”

“We do indeed,” Michael says, joining them just off the entrance to the very nice club he had no idea existed until tonight. He points between the two of them, from Calum’s skin tight white t-shirt to Luke’s white singlet. “Didn’t get the memo, sorry.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Calum says, running a hand through his hair in that way Michael dies for. 

“But doesn’t _he_ look hot, though, Cal?” Luke asks, turning to wrap Michael in a hug.

“Hey, Lukey,” Michael says near his ear, returning the hug with as much fervor. He smells amazing, which has Michael nosing at his jaw and trying to get as close to him as possible.

Luke hums happily. “Hi, baby. I meant it, by the way. You dress up for us?”

“I knew you’d both look amazing. Figured I didn’t wanna detract from that.”

Luke lets go of him with a last squeeze and a kiss to the spot just below his ear. Only for Calum to wrap himself around Michael from behind, kissing down his neck.

“Hello, beautiful,” comes his low, rumbly voice in Michael’s ear. “You do look good. Just… Never wear anything besides black again.”

“Deal,” Michael smirks, “if you like it this much.”

“I like the sound of that,” Luke decides, taking Michael’s hand.

“Me, too.” Calum puts an arm around each of them. “Now, are we going dancing or what?”

“Drinks first!” Luke calls as they head inside.

There is a definite shift between them. Michael can feel it. It’s like the more comfortable he gets, the more affectionate they get, which obviously makes sense, but it also makes Michael nervous as hell. Honestly, he’s scared. He’s scared, because he’s never really been with anyone that lights him up the way they do, makes him want to perform as much, makes him want to try so hard to be what they want. He wants to toss his anxiety and generally nervous disposition down a volcano and be as _much_ and as bright as the two of them. But he doesn’t know that version of himself. He could like it, but he’s just too apprehensive to give into it. They’re still two very confident boys who could easily hurt him if they decide he isn’t worth it and, despite not having gotten any kind of indication that that’s how they feel up until now, he really is just some nerdy dude who likes games and dyeing his hair.

“Mikey!” Luke calls over the music, tilting his chin up so he’s looking him in the eye. “We’re thinking shots! That cool with you?”

Shaking himself out of his head, Michael nods, smiling absently.

Luke leans in to talk near his ear. “You okay? If you really don’t wanna be here tonight, we can go do something else. Anything you like. Mali said you like superhero movies. We can always go see _Ant-Man_?”

Michael wants to kiss him.

Instead, he just shakes his head, squeezes Luke’s hand and leans in to talk near his ear, too. “I’m good! Sorry. Just a little tired. Shots sound great!”

Luke presses a small kiss to his forehead before smiling at him, one of those utterly _pretty_ smiles that make the blue of his eyes shine that much brighter. With a wink, he turns back to the bar counter to tap Calum on the shoulder with their order.

After they’ve each hit back three shots of tequila, Michael gets all of them out to the dance floor, extremely keen to be out of his head between the two boys again. Unlike the night before, his decision to be in this situation improves the experience in a big way.

He learns Calum likes to lead, guiding Michael — and, by extension, Luke — with strong hands and hot encouragement. When Michael grinds against him in a way he likes, it earns him a dirty kiss and a hand kneading into his thigh. When Luke throws his hips just so, losing himself to the music a little, Calum tugs him closer by his shirt and licks into Luke’s mouth, Michael between them the whole time. When they break apart, Luke kisses up Michael’s neck, hands on his ass, until their mouths meet and he spends a good minute undoing Michael entirely with his tongue, lip-ring biting into Michael in a way that makes him want to pin Luke to a wall.

At some point, Michael catches Calum’s eye and raises his eyebrows before nodding at Luke. This earns him a smirk and Calum pulling Luke closer to talk in his ear. A second or two later, Calum has his hands all over Luke, chest pressed to Luke’s back.

Closing the space between them again, Michael puts his mouth to Luke’s other ear. Some obscene force is driving him now. The last modicum of coherency he has, reckons that force is probably called ‘tequila’, but he doesn’t let that stop him. “That better, Lukey? You want us to take care of you?”

Luke’s eyes on his are hazy and brimming with so much want it gets Michael a little breathless. He’d clearly made a good call, which Luke repays him for by kissing every inch of Michael he can reach, while he grinds back on Calum the entire time. The daze sets in again. ‘Indulgence’ isn’t even the word anymore. They move together like they’re the only ones there. When Michael gets a bit of distance at some point to catch his breath, he sees Calum’s hand on the front of Luke’s pants and catches the absolute hunger in Calum’s eyes. It has him surging forward to kiss him like he’s trying to devour him whole. This, of course, causes a lot of friction for Luke, which has him moaning between them before long.

About another two songs in is when Michael starts noticing him. A guy with a close-cropped, blonde bowl cut has been dancing steadily closer to him, but now he’s actively trying to get into Michael’s space. Turning to him to tell him he’s really not interested has the exact wrong reaction. The guy takes it as incentive and gets his hands on Michael. Shaking his head, Michael tries to yell over the music to tell the dude to back off, but when he apparently leans in to listen, he just takes the even closer proximity as an invitation to start chewing on the shell of Michael’s ear. Michael is shoving at him now, but it doesn’t make any difference. Bowl Cut is some kind of Abercrombie & Fitch model, dripping muscle and entitlement. Where are Calum and Luke?

No sooner had Michael thought that when something pale enough to glow in the black light comes streaking past him, taking Bowl Cut with it. He watches as the asshole is pinned to the wall, Luke’s forearm pressed to his throat. Usually such a puppy, Michael is stunned by how every last inch of Luke’s posture screams “I will HURT you”. He moves over, not about Luke getting himself in trouble for him.

But before he can reach them, someone else cuts Michael off: Calum. He steps up to Bowl Cut, hands in the pockets of his jeans and making no move to get Luke to back off. Michael gets there just in time to hear him.

“You think you can just put your hands on whichever pretty boy happens to catch your eye?” Calum raises his eyebrows in a way that makes Michael swallow once.

“We were just dancing! Having a good time!” the guy protests.

Bile pushes its way up Michael’s throat, making his face twist into an ugly expression. He’s about to rip this dick a new one when Luke’s free hand whips through the air to slam into the guy’s forehead, making his head crack against the wall behind it. Michael’s scowl turns into a grimace.

“You fuck off now,” Calum says, voice still unnervingly calm, but his eyes flash to betray how he’s definitely not amused by this loser. “You apologize to Mikey and you get the fuck out of here. I see you around again tonight and I let Luke total you. Get me?”

For a moment, it genuinely looks as though the dude might argue, might take his chances with Luke. Looking over his shoulder for confirmation, Luke gives Calum a look, to which he nods. Taking his arm off Bowl Cut’s throat is only a momentary reprieve for him, before Luke lets his fist fly, right into the guy’s stomach. Keeping him from doubling over by grabbing the back of his neck, Luke steers him over to Michael, forcing his head up so Michael can see his eyes, which are now streaming.

“Apologize,” Calum says, right by the guy’s ear.

Michael doubts the guy will have enough air in his lungs to manage that, but neither Calum nor Luke seems to care much. Calum repeats himself, flexing his fist threateningly.

“S-sorry,” Bowl Cut chokes out.

Looking up at Calum and Luke, Michael’s breathing is heavy. He feels incensed. After being scared of this exact situation all night, he hadn’t expected it to come from some total stranger. Handsy asshole. The two boys nod at him and Michael throws a punch, right into the guy’s jaw. Pain lances up his hand, only half-numbed by the alcohol in his system. After, Luke tosses the guy across the floor, turning his back on him.

Just as deadly as he’d looked a second ago, is how gentle and concerned Luke looks now. Eyes raking Michael up and down for damage, he nods at the bathroom and then leads the way, careful to stay close without touching Michael too much for the moment.

Calum shuts the door behind them and bolts it, giving them some privacy. His expression is still absolutely murderous, but his main concern right then seems to be Michael.

“Did that piece of shit hurt you?” he asks, eyes burning into Michael’s.

He shakes his head. “No. I mean, not physically.”

“I can go get you some water?” Luke offers. “Or we can just go find Mali and go home? God, you must be so rattled…”

“Lu, hun? As much as I’m sure Michael appreciates your concern right now, you’re freaking out and you need to cool it,” Calum says, rubbing soothingly into Luke’s back.

Leaning into Calum’s touch for a moment, Luke nods. “Sorry, Mikey.”

Michael shakes his head, meaning to smile and thank him for caring so much, but when he opens his mouth he only manages to burst into tears. He collapses back into the wall behind him, sliding down the tiles until he’s on the floor. His knees come up of their own accord; his own private little barrier against his fears. For a moment, the only sound is him shaking and crying, almost soundless sobs escaping him as he tries to breathe through the balloon of panic in his chest. Then, the sounds of two other bodies touching down on either side of him has him looking up.

Luke holds out some toilet paper, which he accepts gratefully. Dabbing at his face, Michael hopes he looks at least a little less disgusting than he feels. That’s probably a tall order, but whatever. Everything feels like it’s pressing down on him right now — he’s allowed a little hope, no matter how far-flung.

“When I was sixteen, Calum and I snuck out of the house to go partying for the first time,” Luke starts speaking, voice quiet as he stares at the tiled floor. “We’d both been on the footie team, but that didn’t automatically guarantee us friends or invites. So, we decided to go have a good time by ourselves. We went to this bar in a super shitty part of town, where we thought our parents would never find us. I was still quite a bit smaller than Cal back then. 

“Somewhere during the night, we got separated. I’d never been more scared in my life. I was on the verge of tears when this lady came up to me, super concerned and trying to help. Only, she’d been trying to get me into her booth with her and her friends. She had her hands all over me, touching me and trying to get me to go with her. I couldn’t find my voice — I was just a kid and she took advantage of me, anyway. Thankfully, Calum found me again. He got me away from her and Mali came to get us. 

“I know, when shit like that happens, you feel so fucking powerless and stupid and pathetic. I also know we’ve been crowding you the last two days, which hasn’t been very fair of us, either. So, you’re probably feeling pretty overwhelmed. If you want us to take you home, we can do that, Mikey. You don’t have to be scared of us. We won’t hurt you, I promise. I know that doesn’t mean much, but I give you my word.”

Luke looks over at him, then, somberness and sincerity chasing each other across his face. He looks like he wants to hold Michael’s hand or something; be close to him. So, Michael drops his head onto Luke’s broad shoulder. To his right, he reaches down for Calum’s hand, who grasps his with a grateful exhale.

“I’m sorry I lost sight of you, Mikes. I saw him, but I thought he was seeing me, too. People don’t usually mess with—” Calum cuts himself off, instead drawing circles with his thumb on the back of Michael’s hand.

“With you?” Michael finishes for him, trying to glance sideways at him without turning his head.

“With what’s his,” Luke corrects, sounding like just saying that is some kind of relief.

Michael realizes then just how much the two boys mean to each other. They’ve known each other their whole lives, been there for each other through everything. He wonders how much different things would have been if he’d gone with Calum that day when they’d been little. But then he sees how silly that line of thinking is. He wouldn’t trade Mali for the whole world. Without her, he never even would have met Calum and Luke. He’s right where he’s meant to be — and he really likes these guys. Like, _a lot_.

“Look, can we talk a minute?” Michael asks, before he loses his nerve again.

“‘Course,” Calum says.

Michael moves away, to face them, sitting cross-legged on the floor so he can see them both.

“I, um… This might suck,” Michael prefaces, but takes a deep breath and pushes on. “I like you guys — a lot. I know I was a dick to start, but that’s honestly because otherwise I would have thrown myself at you the moment I stepped through Joy and David’s door. It’s honestly not fair you’re both extremely hot _and_ funny _and_ fun _and_ clever. I had no chance!”

Both boys chuckle, smiling at him. He knows he has to say what’s on his mind, though. It’s not going to get any easier.

“My point is, you two leave for uni again tomorrow, and I am not some hot football star that frequents parties and has weed connections. I’m not like you. So, this is your out. If this was just a weekend thing, I get it. I won’t hold it against you. You’ve shown me nothing but a good time, and I won’t fault you for that.”

He looks from Calum to Luke, trying to convey how serious he is with this, except all he gets from them are similar expressions of confusion before they share that look with each other.

“So, let me get this straight,” Calum says, frowning at Michael. “You’re telling us that if all we did to show you how crazy we are about you this weekend has been fake, we can get off the hook for it by just telling you to get wrecked right now?” Michael’s about to agree, but Calum very clearly isn’t done. “Dude, I drove across the city to bring you pizza and beg you to come out with us again tonight! I… Mali said you’d be at her party and so I… I begged Luke to come home with me, didn’t I? I’ve only had this ridiculous crush on you since you blew me off when we were eleven. Like, you were never mean or anything. You just always knew exactly what you wanted, and you were always just, like, completely yourself.”

“I caught him watching your streams on his phone,” Luke admits, sticking his tongue out at Calum. “Figured I’d see what the fuss was about. Safe to say I was the most nervous about meeting you for real. We definitely don’t want an out, dude. We like you, just as you are, calling us out on our shit and being hot as hell in your all-black and crying and laughing and drunk and sober and all of it. Promise. And you can ask Cal, and even Mali — I don’t break my promises.”

So, Michael might be crying again, but relax about it. He reaches out for their hands, twining their fingers together.

“I just… I mean… God, can I not cry right now?” he tries and fails to make sense.

“Oh, _baby_ ,” Calum coos, getting up to get him more toilet paper. He kneels back down next to Michael, personally wiping away all his tears. “Did you know your eyes get all big and glassy and bright when you cry? So pretty, Mikey.”

“God, he’s just stunning, isn’t he?” Luke joins in, crawling closer, too. “I don’t know why you think you detract from us, Mikey. You look like you should be in some post-hardcore band with all this ink and that hair. If anything, we detract from you. We’re not nearly this cool.”

“ _God_ , if you’re jonesing to blow him, just spit it out,” Calum teases, shoving Luke in the shoulder.

“You know I swallow,” Luke bites back.

“It’s true,” Calum says, meeting Michael’s gaze again. “He does. He’s quite good, actually.”

“Please, ignore him. He defects to sex when he comes face to face with his own lack of personality,” Luke says, rolling his eyes.

“It’s okay, Calum. Maybe we can get you into movies or something. Thankfully, being a total jock is curable,” Michael taunts, voice still a little thick with tears.

“You two talk a big game for a couple of bottoms,” Calum glares at each of them in turn.

“At least I’m not scared of being pegged by a MILF,” Luke says.

Calum’s jaw drops open, making both Michael and Luke crack up.

“ _Bitches_ ,” he grumbles, getting up off the floor.

“Would now be the wrong time to remind him we’re _his_ bitches?” Michael asks Luke.

“Oh, trust me — he knows,” Luke says, looking just about pleased as punch.

  
  
  
  


It’s about a month later and Michael is finally headed out to see Calum and Luke at uni. They’d gotten him a ticket to see one of their home games, gotten their coursework up to date and freed up an entire weekend to spend with him. So far, they’ve only ever come into the city to see him, so it’s only fair that he travel to be with them for a change.

Doesn’t make him any less nervous, though.

He shows up at the stadium, hanging just inside the entrance as per their arrangement. He feels like everyone is staring at him, at his hair and his tattered jean jacket and his Paramore t-shirt and general air of “I have never seen a sports match in my entire life”. Of course, Michael wants to be there for his boys, but does it have to be so… public?

“Michael?”

He spins around. A small, really pretty blonde girl smiles at him.

“Are you Michael? Cal said you’re hair would be—”

“Oh, yeah. Dyed it. Are you Ali?” he asks, traipsing closer.

“I am! You’re gonna be sitting with us for the game,” she says, nodding back the way she came.

He follows her around the stands, all as she asks him little tidbits about himself: where he studies, what he studies, how he’d met Luke and Calum. She seems pretty cool, so he asks her if she’s here supporting someone specific, too.

“Oh, same as you! Luke, Cal and I are pretty close,” she throws over her shoulder.

Michael almost freezes in his tracks. What the fuck does “pretty close” mean? She’s not also…?

“Shit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost! No, fuck, sorry.” She pins him with an apologetic look. “You’re good. Luke and Calum are good friends of mine. Met them at a bar one night when some guy harassed me. But we’re honestly just friends. They’re all yours.”

And now he feels dumb. “I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, I get it. They’re so hot, it’s intimidating. But they’re crazy about you. You’re literally all they talk about,” she says as they round a corner on the far side of the stands.

“It’s true,” comes one of Michael’s favourite voices in the world.

He has about a second to be happy to see him before Luke wraps him in a hug that almost knocks him right off his feet. Michael pulls him close, somehow ending up with his back pressed to the wall.

"Your _hair_ ," Luke says, by way of greeting.

"You like it? Figured it was time for a change," Michael says, leaning back a bit to meet Luke's eyes.

"It's such a _dark_ blue. How do you pull off literally every color?" Luke wants to know, eyes roaming over Michael's hair like he's never seen something more amazing.

Michael rolls his eyes, feeling himself blush, but instead of getting awkward, he pulls Luke in for a kiss. And, God, is it a _kiss_. Luke works him over like this is the only place he wants to be ever, like he doesn't have a football match to play in 20-odd minutes – like nothing could possibly tear him away. For a while, Michael lets himself get lost in that, in all Luke's little sounds and movements, in Luke's hands on him, in how utterly sexy he looks in his footie uniform. But he knows if he lets Luke, they'd never leave, and he can't support his boys if they're not actually playing the game.

"Lukey," Michael tries. "Babe, you gotta go. You have a game, remember?" 

"Mmmm," Luke hums against his mouth. "Goddamnit."

"I know," Michael says, running fingers through Luke's carefully styled hair, cautious not to mess it up.

"You wanna come kiss Cal good luck before we play?" Luke asks, voice low and sexy, leaning in to trace Michael's bottom lip with his tongue.

A low moan escapes him, but he manages a nod nonetheless. Luke grabs his hand, leading the way to the locker rooms through the throng of people still trying to find seats. Michael notes that they've lost Ali, but Luke says she's probably saving his seat for the game.

The locker room smells disgusting, which is kind of exactly how Michael had always pictured it smelling. It's also filled to the brim with half-naked guys either glaring at Michael or making inappropriate comments about him to Luke. Luke flips them all off, looking this way and that to find Calum.

"You can all go back to your wanking now, bitch boys, these two stunners are mine."

They stop and turn. Out of a cloud of shower steam steps Calum, nothing but a towel around his waist and a smirk on his face. He looks so good it's all Michael can do to keep from jumping him right there.

"Luke, you'll get us both kicked off the team," Calum says, not sounding like he cares one bit as he pulls Michael in by the front of his jacket.

"I wanted to come see you," Michael says, sweetly. His arms snake around Calum's neck as he blinks at him, faux-innocent.

"Wanted to come tease me with how hot you look tonight, baby boy?" Calum says, leaning in and sucking on Michael's bottom lip a little.

He whimpers, his knees threatening to give out, but Calum steadies him by pulling them against each other. God, Michael always misses these solid bodies grounding him when he's alone. It's not fair Calum and Luke get to see each other every day, and he only gets weekends with them.

"Love the hair, by the way," Calum murmurs, kissing along his jaw. " _Fuck_ , Mikey. Look so good. How am I meant to focus on the game?"

"Well, I came to see you win, didn't I?" Michael says, breathless, leaning back to kiss him long and deep.

"So, this is all incentive? I can get behind that." Calum kisses him again, but then lets him go. His eyes don't stop roaming Michael's body, though, making him feel regarded in the best way. Smirking, and reaching for his uniform, Calum continues, "What do we get if we win?"

"Yeah, Mikes," Luke says, wrapping his arms around Michael's waist from behind. "What's in it for us?"

"Oh, I have _plans_ for that possibility," Michael teases, covering Luke's arms with his own.

"And if we lose?" Luke asks, voice small in Michael's ear.

He lifts one of Luke's hands to his face and kisses it. "Don't lose, gorgeous."

Michael still knows exactly nothing about football except the glaringly obvious, but even he has to admit Luke and Calum look good out there. Luke is quick, zipping between the opposition like they’re standing still, and he and Calum make a mean team. In fact, the entire game plan appears to be “pass the ball to Calum”. Calum is a _force_. Gravity does not apply to him. He makes the other team look like a bunch of escaped zoo monkeys, slipping the ball between their legs or hooking it out of the air. For every tight space Luke can slip through to steal the ball, Calum is there to take it the rest of the way to score the goal. And if he can’t score the goal himself, he makes damn sure whoever else has to can score. They don’t miss a single one!

By half-time, the other team has no hope of winning. Luke and Calum’s coach is practically jumping up and down in utter delight, clapping them on the shoulders and smiling like Christmas came early. Luke scans the stands, finding Michael and winking at him. Michael’s bottom lip catches between his teeth as he nods flirtily back, tilting his head. Does he imagine it or does Luke’s neck turn red?

They end up winning with something akin to a cricket score. It’s absolutely ridiculous. All their team’s supporters run on the field, lifting Calum on their shoulders and carrying him to the locker room, but Michael hangs back with Ali and her friends, a guy named Josh and a girl named Megan. Apparently, they’ll get a text when the guys are ready to go. They’re hitting up a pretty nice bar to celebrate the win.

Michael listens to the other three relive the game, blow by blow, only nodding along when praise of Luke and Calum are thrown his way. He’s ridiculously proud of them, and they deserve to be treated, but he hopes they can slip away not too long from now. He’d meant it when he’d said he had plans, and he’s nervous enough as it is.

Then, his phone vibrates in his pocket and he fishes it out. It’s a text from Calum.

“hey bby. waiting behind the stands for u xx”

“They’re done,” Michael cuts through what had no doubt been a riveting rendition of Calum’s billionth goal from Josh.

They all head down. As they near the pair, Ali knocks shoulders with Michael, making a face at him. She’s right, of course. As usual, Calum and Luke both look amazing, both decked out in all black, except tonight Luke’s wearing the skin tight shirt. Calum is wearing a Metallica singlet, which Michael recognizes.

“Cool shirt, Cal,” he remarks.

“It’s been in our room for a few weeks now, which officially makes it mine,” Calum decides, wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders.

He can have it, too. It puts all his tattoos on display, practically making Michael’s mouth water. Luke takes his hand on his other side, putting Michael in his favorite place in the world: right between his two boys. Affectionate as always, Luke presses himself into Michael’s side, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Something about him is different, but Michael can’t decide what. That is, until Michael catches sight of his lip-ring and his brain finally catches up with him.

“You pierced your ears,” he notes, smiling.

“Yeah! You like?” Luke turns his head to give Michael a full view. In the one ear, it’s only an iodized black stud in the lobe, but in the other, the one not facing Michael, is a bar through the top, an industrial.

“It’s, um…” Michael’s mouth goes dry right when he needs it to cooperate. _Fuck_.

“You don’t?” Luke’s eyes go wide.

“I had the same reaction at first,” Calum says, his expression betraying how affected he is, too.

“Luke, you are _so hot_ ,” Michael manages. And now he really needs them to leave. Can’t they just blow off the bar? They’re not even there yet.

“I _can_ and _will_ blow you both in a bathroom stall,” comes Luke’s response, looking properly loved up.

They respond simultaneously, Michael going “Promise?”, while Calum’s is an interested look and an “At the same time?”

They’ve been doing this dance for a month now. It’s clear they all want nothing more than to fall into bed together, but the other two are being almost too respectful of Michael’s boundaries, letting him come to them. And they’ve come pretty close a few times, but he always starts freaking out at the logistics of it all and then chickens out. Well, not tonight. He’s done leaving to go jack himself off in the shower to the thought of what they might be up to without him.

“Get me drunk first,” Luke says, looking wryly everywhere but at them.

Michael gives Calum a questioning look, who nods like it’s a sure thing. Michael’s beginning to wonder if maybe they don’t all have the same plans for tonight.

The entire crowd at the bar roars when they step inside, everyone coming over to clap Calum and Luke on the back or offer them drinks. Some girls even come over to offer up their numbers, which they both politely decline. Is it self-indulgent of Michael to take note how none of the sweet things they call the girls are at all the pet names they have for him?

“Well, who’s your friend, then?” one of the girls asks, eyeing Michael.

Holding fast to Luke’s hand, he stands there with what he can only guess is a deer-caught-in-headlights expression. But, naturally, he has nothing to worry about. Luke lets go of his hand to wrap a protective arm around his waist, while Calum squeezes Michael’s shoulders.

“This is Michael,” Calum introduces, “our boyfriend.”

“S-sorry,” the girl says, then, making herself scarce.

“So, gents,” Luke says, then, watching her leave. “Drinks? I’m feeling beer. Carbo-loading and all.”

“Sure,” Michael says. “I could steal beer from you.”

Calum slips a bill out of his pocket and hands it to Luke. “Only tip if he’s hot.”

With a mock salute, Luke leaves them for the milling mass at the bar counter.

Around them, music is playing and people are having a good time. Josh, Megan and Ali appear to have moved on from the topic of the game to talk about one of Megan’s tattoos. Michael finds himself relaxing here. That is, until Calum gets his hands on him. He goes straight for a decent grip on Michael’s ass, positioning Michael between his legs and kissing him hard. Michael grips at his biceps, returning Calum’s energy blow for blow, licking into his mouth and sighing when Calum takes over there, too, slipping his tongue under Michael’s. It makes Michael melt into his chest, fighting to keep up, but Calum never expects him to; is always perfectly content being the one in control and turning Michael into a boneless mess.

“Mikey?” Calum says against his lips, kissing him again until Michael’s head spins.

He moans into Calum’s mouth, hands slipping down to grip at Calum’s hips beneath his shirt. When he pulls away to speak again, Michael kisses down his throat, nipping at the taut skin there as he slips his fingers inside the waistband of Calum’s jeans.

“Mikey, _f-fuck…_ ” he stammers. “God, want you so bad, baby. So good for me.”

Michael pulls back, breathing hard, to lock eyes with him. He nods, telling Calum he’s in. All the way this time. He’s not scared anymore.

“Yeah? That what you want, love? Want me and Lukey to take you home?” Calum murmurs, fixating on Michael’s mouth like he’s missing it already.

Michael kisses him again, dirty and messy, all tongue and teeth, breaking it off abruptly. “Want it. _Bad_ , please? It’s all I ever think about. Been too scared, but ‘m not anymore. _Please_ , Callie?”

“Nothing to be scared of, petal. We got you, yeah? Always got you. Wanna get out of here?” Calum asks, kissing down his neck, painting his pale skin as pretty blue as his hair.

Michael nods, not trusting himself to open his mouth. It’s all the confirmation Calum needs, though, before he’s sweeping them both out. They find Luke surrounded by people at the bar, Calum’s money still gripped in his hand.

“Just gonna go get Luke, yeah? Be right with you, baby,” Calum says, leaving Michael to wait at the door.

He pushes through the throng, getting to Luke easily. Taking back the money, Calum takes Luke’s hand to pull him closer. They have a whispered conversation, which appears to consist mostly of Calum talking, and then Luke is following him out, eyes on Michael.

When they reach Michael again, all he wants is to get his hands on Luke, who lets him, one hand winding around Michael's waist and the other going to knot in his hair. They kiss furiously, Michael sucking on Luke’s tongue obscenely.

“If you two keep that up here, I’m coming in my jeans,” Calum interjects, dragging them outside.

They catch a closeby Uber to the guys’ dorm. The drive feels like it takes forever, especially with Calum and Luke doing all they can to get Michael worked up: stealing kisses and kneading at his thighs. At some point, Luke is kissing down his jaw, using his teeth to make Michael see stars, and right as he gets to Michael’s mouth, his hand grinds down on Michael’s growing erection. Smart about it, though, Luke kisses him, swallowing up his moan and the whine it turns into when Calum grips hard at his inner thigh, just below his crotch.

They tumble into the guys’ room with nothing but the streetlight outside for them to see by. It’s impossible to tell who undresses who, but their clothes seem to melt away by the time they get to the bed, which is really just their two dorm bunks pushed together with a bigger mattress on top. Michael ends up on his back, Luke straddling and sitting on top of him, raking him up and down hungrily.

“He said he thinks about this all the time, Lu,” Calum says, on his knees and looming over Michael.

The streetlight casts a faint yellow glow over everything, picking out the shadows in each indentation between Luke and Calum’s muscles. Michael wants to suck bruises all over them.

“Yeah? You think about us, Mikey? Think about us making you feel good?” Luke asks, trailing a finger down Michael’s chest and stomach to play with the waistband of his underwear.

“Please?” Michael says, knowing that, right now, he’d beg if he had to.

“Even you don’t ask this nicely,” Calum says to Luke. “It’s getting me hard.”

Michael’s about to suggest Calum just fuck him, then, when Luck abandons his current teasing to start stroking Michael through his underwear. It makes his back arch up off the bed and an airy moan leave him.

“Oof, think he likes this. What do you think, Cal?” Luke says, littering in a few squeezes along with his torturous stroking.

“I think,” Calum starts, moving over to kiss Luke in a way that makes his dick twitch in his underwear, as far as Michael can see. At this point, Michael’s pretty sure they could make out like that all night and he could come just from watching, “you should suck him off.”

“Would you like that, beautiful?” Luke asks, his pupils already blown wide.

“Yes,” Michael tries his hardest not to whine. “Please, Lukey?”

Luke doesn’t need to be invited twice, making short work of Michael’s underwear. His dick all but springs free, and does he imagine Luke licking his lips before dipping down to suck on the head? He has no idea, and then he stops knowing anything at all. Luke’s mouth is heaven. God, it _has_ to be. The tight, hot wetness, along with that sinful piece of metal dragging up and down, gets Michael so far out of his head he even forgets to be quiet. Luke presses at his thighs, leaving bruises as his cheeks hollow out around Michael.

“That good, baby? Luke knows how to use that pretty mouth of his,” Calum says, who’s standing off in a corner, watching them with a hand down his underwear.

Michael reaches out for him, wanting him closer, but Calum only shakes his head, making him pout.

“You’ll get me soon. I plan on fucking you tonight,” Calum shares, casually. “And then we’re both fucking Luke. Goodness knows, he’s desperate for it. Aren’t you, Lukey?”

Luke pops off, working Michael over with his fist. “You really expect me to dignify that with a response?”

“Bratty slut,” Calum throws back.

“You love it,” Luke says, before going back to work on Michael.

When he starts working up a very specific rhythm, Michael’s hand goes out to keep him there almost subconsciously. This earns him Luke looking up at him while he pulls off extra slowly, swirling his tongue around the tip like Michael is a sugary popsicle on a hot day. And this time, when he goes down, his jaw is slack and he pushes down far.

“ _Jesus_!” Michael cries out, feeling himself hitting the back of Luke’s throat.

“Most likely,” Calum reasons.

Luke really gets going then, the added pressure all but making Michael black out. He’s going to finish soon, and hard, and Luke is showing no sign of stopping. He grips Michael’s thighs for all he’s worth and takes Michael down like it’s his job. After a bit, he makes it so Michael is hitting the back of his throat every time.

Michael is shaking as he comes, a broken cry leaving him as Luke swallows down every last drop of his release. His entire body is numb with it and he’s so exhausted, he could sleep for a week. Calum, however, has other plans.

“My turn,” he says, taking Luke’s place between Michael’s legs.

Michael whines out a protest. He needs at least a minute to catch his breath. Calum shakes his head, though, shushing him.

“We said we’d take care of you, yeah? Do you trust me, baby boy?”

He wants to melt at the pet name, nodding once instead.

“Then, relax.” Before letting himself at Michael, though, Calum glances over his shoulder. “Hemmings, you better not be touching yourself. You know what happened the last time.”

“Am I an idiot?” Luke replies from somewhere Michael can’t see.

“You want an honest answer?” Calum counters, grabbing a pillow to put under Michael’s lower back.

“Fuck off,” Luke says. A minute later, he’s crawling back onto the bed to sit next to Michael. “You’re such a dick sometimes,” he says once he’s comfortable, still talking to Calum. “Just because I like being bossed around in bed, doesn’t mean you have to be mean about it.”

Calum gives him a look. “Fine. I’m sorry. Shall I also make sweet, tender love to you tonight instead of fucking your brains out?”

“You caress my cheek, or even go remotely less hard than absolutely railing me, and I dump you for Chris Gallagher,” Luke threatens.

“He’s our goalie,” Calum clarifies for Michael, who is starting to get the feeling back in his extremities. Addressing Luke again, Calum says, “Just because the man has a horse dick, doesn’t mean he knows how to use it.”

“Anyone ever tell you two you talk too much?” Michael cuts in.

“I take it back,” Calum says, holding out his hand to Luke who turns to dig through the drawer in the nightstand. “Our Mikey might be more bratty than I thought.”

“You ever consider that you just bring out the worst in us?” Luke responds, handing Calum the lube and a condom.

“You love it,” Calum hits back, winking at him. He sets the bottle and the wrapper down next to him on the bed, looking like he’s preparing for some kind of speech. This is probably why he’s a lawyer, Michael reasons. He loves the sound of his own voice.

Meanwhile, Luke is moving over to have Michael lay his head in his lap. While it’s a sweet gesture and Michael appreciates any and all closeness he can have with either of them, he doesn’t really see how this is going to work, or how it’ll be comfortable.

“Luke—”

“You’re a grabber,” Luke gently cuts him off, giving him a small smile. “I don’t mind a little, uh… guidance. Calum, though…?”

“So, you’re going to what? Restrain me?” Michael’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Distract you,” Luke corrects. “Promise if you don’t like it, we can stop. Deal?”

“Okay. What, don’t I need a safe-word or something?” Michael asks, only half-joking.

Suddenly, one of Michael’s feet gets dragged to the side and something slippery gets wrapped around his ankle.

“I was getting to that,” Calum says, securing the silk tie around the bedpost. He finishes with Michael’s other leg first, while Michael lays in Luke’s lap, the latter running gentle, soothing fingers through Michael’s hair. “Most people turn the safe-word thing into some kind of joke. So, to avoid that possibility, Luke and I use the greenlight system. Though, nothing too juvenile. Basically, if you’re not onboard, you color out. Red means stop. Cool?”

“Red means stop,” Michael repeats, but then he shakes his head. “What exactly are you planning on doing to me?”

“Well, first, I’m planning on eating you out, which I am expert at, if I do say so myself,” Calum says, crawling back on the bed, “but it might not be very comfortable. Thing is, though, the discomfort adds to the payoff at the end. Some people just can’t make it ‘til then. If you can’t, no worries. You color out, we do something else. Sound good?”

“I’m trusting you,” Michael decides, “but if this is some sadistic shit where I have to call you, I don’t know, ‘master’ or some shit, and I get spanked when I misbehave, I’m calling Mali.”

“Hey, don’t knock spanking,” Luke shakes his head down at Michael. “Calum’s quite good at that, too.”

“ _Sick fucks_ ,” Michael grumbles under his breath before taking a deep breath. “Enough with the talking. Are you fucking me or not, Hood?”

“Luke?” Calum says, lifting Michael so he’s resting on his upper back.

Luke pins his arms to the mattress on either side of him, leaning down to kiss him. It’s a different kind of kissing than Michael is generally used to from Luke, all slow and deep and lingering. He sucks Michael’s tongue into his mouth, kissing Michael until he can’t breathe, his nerves crackling in pleasure. He wants to get his hands into Luke’s hair, but Luke is strong. There’s no wiggle room; he’s pinned good and proper. And Luke isn’t letting up, the kissing only getting dirtier, especially when he starts moving down and leaving hickeys hard enough to bruise.

Then, he feels it, and his back almost gives out. It washes over him so intensely and suddenly he cries out again, but Calum doesn’t stop, just darting his tongue in and out of Michael like he’s determined to have Michael keep up the entire building. Luke doesn’t stop kissing him the entire time, keeping his arms flat on the mattress. Michael decides it might not be so bad, being held down — not if Calum keeps this up, setting his body on fire like this. God, he can’t _think_. It’s so fucking good, especially with Luke taking such good care of him, keeping the sweat from running into his eyes and kissing him like this to relieve some of the pent up insanity in his body. If Calum keeps this up any longer, he’s not only going to come, he’s going to black out.

At some point, Calum starts biting at the insides of his thighs, leaving him wet and open and empty, and Michael fights against his human bondage. Calum can’t just stop like this — he can’t bring Michael so close and then just leave him. Every last one of his muscles tenses against Luke, who now has to pin his arms above his head.

“ _Caluuummmm…_ ” Michael whines, fighting to be let up, but Luke is unrelenting.

“This what you want, gorgeous?” Calum asks, licking a flat stripe along Michael’s taint.

“ _AH_!” Michael all but screams, thrashing, but Calum grips his hips hard enough to bruise. There’s no escape, and Michael’s beginning to realize he doesn’t want one

Calum nips at the tender surrounding skin a few more times, always going back to kiss or lick where he’s bitten. It’s driving Michael out of his mind. He’s never been this hard in his life, never wanted to come this badly — never cried this much. Fuck, he’s practically sobbing, gibberish pleas for some kind of release falling from his lips. Calum’s picking him apart and putting him back together into a version of himself he doesn’t know, but he’ll be whoever Calum wants him to be, as long as he doesn’t stop.

And, as suddenly as it’d started, it’s over. Calum puts him down, leaving Michael a crying mess on the bed with Luke cooing over him and shushing him, using his hand to wipe Michael’s tears. Michael’s chest is heaving. He’s in pain and he doesn’t care. It’s not important. He feels betrayed, is what he feels. How can Calum just do this to him? How can he just leave Michael like this?

Trying to get a look at the Judas, Michael is gearing up to lose his shit at the other boy. That is, until he catches sight of what Calum’s up to. Michael watches as he slips a condom down his length and then starts slicking himself up with lube. Their eyes lock and Calum’s are downright feral. If this first half had been an ordeal for Michael, he clearly is not prepared for what’s coming.

Instead of getting back on the bed, Calum pulls him down and off Luke’s lap, so the strain is on Michael’s thighs now where his legs bend uncomfortably from being tied down. Hands on Michael’s knees, Calum poises to push in. All Michael’s misplaced hurt dies in this throat, as he stares down his salvation in near-agonizing anticipation.

“Still green, Mikey?” Calum asks.

“Green,” Michael chokes out.

“Still got him, Lu?”

Luke snorts. “He’s stronger than he looks, but I got him.”

Calum pushes in and Michael’s vision whites out.

For a good five minutes, all Michael can manage is to hold on to Luke and take it. Calum is utterly merciless, slamming into him hard enough to rock the bed back. He’s never been filled up like this. He almost can’t take it. It’s like he’s getting the sense fucked out of him. The pain in his thighs has him rocking forward to meet Calum, anything to bring the release on faster. He doesn’t care how hard he was to work. He wants this so bad. He might have come a few times already, but since the evidence doesn’t support this, Calum is still hard at work. 

Then, he changes gears. He gets on his knees on the bed and lifts Michael back up, so he’s slanted down and Calum’s fucking him backwards into the mattress. When he starts back up this time, he’s slamming right into Michael’s prostate, rending from him moan after moan, making him thrash worse than ever. His back arches of its own accord this time and he rocks forward mindlessly, pleasure traveling through every inch of him in little seizures.

“We having fun yet?” Calum laughs, ramming Michael’s brain to mush. “You wanna come for me, baby?”

“Ah! P- _pleeeaaassseee…_ W-want Luke. Kiss?” Somehow Luke gets what he means and he’s back to kissing Michael. And, God, that’s it. That’s all he needs. Sobbing his way through his orgasm has never felt this good. 

Finishing this time hollows him out, hangs him out to dry, whatever… He feels like he’s filled with TV static. When he gets some sense back, it’s to Luke licking some of his come off his chest and going to kiss Calum. Michael might just have another mini-orgasm at the sight.

  
  
  
  


"So, Calum…" Michael starts.

It's the morning after and they'd all made the executive decision to lie in. The previous night had ended with Luke's wrists and ankles tied together as Calum and Michael had taken turns ploughing into him. It'd been quite interesting to Michael how Luke had needed permission from either of them before he'd been able finish. Even more impressive, though, had been just how snappy Luke can get, and just how much Calum feeds off that. Essentially, Michael has never been closer to either of them.

"Tops, at all times," Luke finishes, playing with Michael's fingers.

"Which means that–" Michael continues.

"Luke is a notorious bottom?" Calum cuts in, on Michael's other side. "The rumors are true!"

"But I…"

"Am most probably a switch?" Luke suggests, eyeing Michael.

"Which leads me to one, very clear conclusion," Michael says.

He pulls Luke's hand over to his face to kiss it and then leans over to press a kiss to Calum's shoulder. 

"What're we, supposed to wither and die first?" Calum wants to know.

"Okay, _two_ very clear conclusions," Michael amends. "First, Calum is a bossy dick at all times, which is both extremely hot and extremely annoying–"

" _Annoyi–_ "

"And, second," Michael pushes on, "I'm probably the luckiest fucker on the planet with the two of you."

"I'll let the aforementioned, totally false assessment of my personality slide on the grounds of your second statement," Calum says, rolling over in bed to kiss Michael.

"In return, we'll continue to encourage the delusion that you top because you intimidate us," Luke counters, "but only because my post-orgasm _stupor_ makes me more agreeable."

Calum stares at him, while Michael loses his shit laughing between the two of them.

"Not just a pretty face," Luke says, looking smug.

"I'm dumping you both for Chris Gallagher," Calum mutters, dropping his face into his pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me if the smut sucked i need to know whether i should just give up writing altogether thx


End file.
